


The Consequences of War

by Bunnylover94



Series: Spells [5]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnylover94/pseuds/Bunnylover94
Summary: Elijah and the Council are coming face to face. Elijah has no plans to bow before them. Will the Council fight him on his stance or will they submit willingly? AU. The conclusion to the Spells series.





	The Consequences of War

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the final part of the Spells! I loved writing this AU series. The Originals were honestly the best part of The Vampire Diaries.  
> *Disclaimer: I own nothing!*  
> Enjoy, please Comment and give Kudos.

The early morning day was spotless as the Sun rose above the horizon. The light-blue sky mixed with the brilliant yellow and orange blasted from the star that nurtured planet Earth. The young morning sky held no darkened clouds or harsh winds assaulting people as they passed the crystal-like building to begin their days. The atmosphere was bland and lacked any color or excitement, despite the bright and colorful morning sky; non-threatening really, and yet a tremor crept through the elongated meeting room.

 A line of huge black frames held most of the twelve people who assembled in the meeting room; about nine of them still held their positions in the prestigious council. Those nine frames held painted portraits, and many others morphed into multiple different faced representatives that spanned for a few centuries. 

 They had an important mission in their extended lives; they needed to take care of their people. Too many vampires never knew about where to properly purchase a piece of sun jewelry. So many witches and warlocks never learned their extent of their powers until they had entered into their teens. Some werewolves never realized their heritage until they finally snapped and killed someone. All of them needed assistance from beings who could and would actually _help_ them. Not to continually frighten them or use them for small bouts of entertainment.

Even those filthy _hybrids_ deserved some civil treatment. And legal protection.

 Such pitiful creatures.

  Shame how most people never advanced in their small community. They often were restricted by the vicious fighting and the Originals. They assumed since they were the first. Those vampires and their unnatural hybrid brother played and slaughtered throughout the centuries. They rarely cared about any consequences to their repeated killings. They assumed they were the judge, jury and executioner.

  The Originals needed to learn that their reckless rein over the planet was over. They were in charge, not those ancient monsters.

  They would change the world into a better one. The council envisioned a globe filled with many supernatural beings that were well-behaved and decent people who treated each other without resorting to bloodshed.

 Why should the council even bother listening to that bastard King of New Orleans? He ruled that city, well enough, but he failed at protecting his people from two wayward brothers. Niklaus Mikaelson should have contacted them first.

 They would have handled the situation effectively, efficiently and most important: _quietly_. There was no need to broadcast their problems to the world. They were the Council and they provided absolute order.

That was the way of things.

Why would they do anything else?

Or rather why would they choose to abandon such a powerful status? Respect and influence spread across the supernatural globe. And they would forever cement that admirable legacy into the soil and allow it to flourish.

 The three other seats permitted new and diverse perspective to their debates and law deliberations. It required two other types of supernatural creatures: a wolf and a witch specifically.

  Two of the remaining spots were rotated out by an ancient lineage of the greatest werewolf blood line. This time around the wolves were represented by two fraternal twins. One brother and sister who butted heads and then allowed a continuous discussion to flow between them.

  It was good to have excitement during the more dull meetings, but when they had guests the twins knew to keep their mouths shut and not reveal what they truly thought.

 The final one was always held by one witch. Her family background did not matter. As one as she had magic swirling in veins and passed the strict tests to _earn_ her place among them. She was a strange naïve witch. Her eyes filled with hope and passion. All the effects youth brought a cursed zest for life. She smiled brilliantly at their requested guest. He only treaded down the room and turned to glance out the window. Her smile dimmed a bit, but a rush of optimism appeared to grace her face.

  How sweet. And stupid. She needed to grasp the gravity of her situation. It was foolish to openly reveal your emotions to the Original.

  The ever proper vampire strode into the room. All of the twelve supernatural beings internally reacted, but some actually slipped and revealed a piece of their turmoil to the vampire. He in turn rose his dark eyes and nodded at the leader of the gathered people. The leader returned Elijah's gesture with a small smile.

  "Good morning, Mr. Mikaelson," greeted a smiling yet trembling witch.

  The others practically drilled holes into her head. She was the most recent member to join them, only six months ago. She had yet to comprehend her place.

  He gazed intently at the witch. He tracked her with her nervous shakes of her cheeks and her trembling hands. Those ancient eyes trailed down to a smiling bunny pin strapped on the collar of her black shirt.

Elijah slid his hands into his smooth pockets. He glanced around the circular table with the assorted people attempting not to openly gawk at him. A few brows drenched in sweat as Elijah regarded them calmly, before he glanced down at the paper folder. He sat down on the soft velvet cushion the clawed armchair offered. He elegantly draped his arms over the monstrous wooden arms. Nine watched him with caution, like antelope peering at a lion licking his curled powerful claws. They refused to anger the noble Mikaelson.

The twins aimed their gazes at the legendary Mikaelson with open suspicion and shifted their posture to convey their muscles ready to attack whenever the slightest hint of an attack would be poised against them. They were not going to be killed by some _Original_ vampire.

Elijah devoted his eternal life to building a wide spread supernatural community that remained whole, instead of killing each other. He and his brother Finn were the only Mikaelson brothers who kept their word.

  However, he was not the **one** to piss off.

  He had the most reserve of his siblings. The most patience and willingness remained to hear out the present situation. Even Finn had recently slaughtered that coven of witches in France, after they attempted burning his Sage's brain to pieces. The others well...were practically sung in praises over their many merciless deeds.

  What happened in New Orleans could be overseen, but _their_ deaths would equal full-out chaos. The council refused to have their legacy left as a warning to those who feared to cultivate any stability or order to the supernatural community; and have that avenue effectively eradicated for centuries to come.

The twins shook in anger and they forcibly clamped down the irritation brewing in them. Mister Elijah didn't provide them a second glance.

 One braver than the rest, the witch, coughed. Elijah only continued turning the pages of the manila folder, and seemed to not hear him.

  The witch coughed again.

  Elijah flipped the page and arched a brow.

 "Mr. Mikaelson-"

  Elijah held up one finger.

The brave little witch clamped her mouth shut. A wash of worry and fear invaded her throat and halted any words from escaping her. Elijah Mikaelson continued to glance at the page curled around his thumb. She watched him openly with no hint of suspicion, only an increased reveal of nervousness.

  A stretch of silence passed for a minute.

  And another minute.

  Two more drifted away.

  An elegant deep throat clearing alerted the council to latch their eyes to Elijah's newly straightened back. His eyebrow arched again.

  "Why does it say Niklaus killed the Salvatores?"

  The witch opened her mouth, "That was what a witness declared that when she called."

  Elijah pinned his dark gaze. "Who was she?"

  The witch shrugged. "Honestly, we don't know."

  "You mean _you_ don't know," scoffed the female werewolf.

  The witch flushed in embarrassment. "We were going...Well I wanted to call you and clarify if that was correct."

  Elijah's lips twitched. "No, it's not Miss-"

  "Lauren," she said.

  "Well Miss Lauren, Niklaus did not kill the Salvatores."

  "So your brother is completely innocent?" asked an older vampire.

 He arched a disbelievingly eyebrow at Elijah. "Really?"

 Elijah calmly sighed. "Niklaus was not the one who killed them."

  "Then who?"

  "Kol."

  The witch's eyes widened. "You brought him back."

  "That's impossible."

  "That's against the natural order."

  "With all due respect, sir. Most of you rebelled against Time, by your very natures," remarked the witch.

  Elijah Mikaelson held his dark gaze on the witch.

  She turned her attention back to Elijah Mikaelson. "So...Kol took revenge against the Salvatores?"

 Elijah nodded.

  "And the Salvatores killed everyone else?"

  "Yes."

  The witch's eyes shined with empathy. "It's good to have him back among the living."

 "Aren't you supposed to be a servant of nature?" demanded one of the vampires.

 The witch rolled her eyes. A slow roll that highlighted the whites of her eyes and her bright red veins. It concluded with her lips smacking across her smooth skin. She looked like an irritated horse who just wanted a freakin' apple.

 The werewolf twins smirked at the witch.

 The vampires' faces varied in degrees of disgust to amusement.

"Look, we all are alive thanks to our ties to Mother Earth. Those debates are so old. We don't need to fight over such _stupid_ stuff anymore," sassed the witch.

  "She has a point," murmured a teenager-looking vampire. She glanced around with clever eyes that estimated her age was six centuries old.

  "Kol needs to pay for his actions," demanded one vampire.

  "Agreed," said another.

  "He isn't the one to punish. Those two Salvatores have been a pain in side for a long time. They're dead. It's time to move forward."

  "One thing's for certain, a few covens will hesitate before heading to New Orleans for an alliance."

  One snorted. "They talk a big game with their morality. But in the end, they will go for something greater."

  They looked to the cynical vampire.

  "Money. You can't very well steal ingredients. They will go to New Orleans. One way or the other."

  "True, witches often do talk a big game. They don't seem to care when they gain a check out of the deal. _Servants of nature_ , indeed."

  The witch coughed. "Yeah, we all can't be saints, dude."

  The elder vampire glared at her.

  The witch shrugged at him. "I'm just being honest."

 She turned to Elijah Mikaelson. "We won't hurt your family."

  One of the twin wolves snarled, "Don't speak for us."

  The witch sighed. "We have no other reason to punish the Mikaelsons."

  "Are you sure you're a witch?" snapped the other wolf.

  "We need to kill Kol Mikaelson," stressed one of the vampires.

  "There will be no need for that," finally spoke Elijah.

  All heads turned to look at him. His physical posture was relaxed, but a gleam of warning radiated from his dark eyes. He rose his fingers slowly over his wooden armchair and flicked his gaze between the vampire who suggested that insidious deed; and a stray splinter that had formed in his elegant yet cracked hands. Those hands were still tainted in slight patches of faded blood-colored lines.

 As if he had participated in the killings...

  "Mister Mikaelson, we do not want to kill your brother," urged the witch.

  "You don't speak for all of us, witch," spat one vampire.

  "We need to kill Kol Mikaelson. We don't have to listen to the little witch who barely has passed her twenties," proclaimed the leader.

  A quick breeze barreled into them. Elijah pressed the miniature splinter into the side of the Council leader's neck.

  "Be very careful with your _next_ words, Mr. Warren," stated an exaggeratedly calm Elijah.

  "Of course, Mr. Mikaelson," remarked the Council leader Mr. Warren.

  Elijah did not remove the small piece of wood. Instead he readjusted his cuffs slightly and directed his dark gaze to the witch. He then scanned his eyes across the other members.

  "You should listen to Miss Lauren. She may be the youngest of you, but she has the most sense. You will not come after my brother or any other member of my family," calmly threatened Elijah.

  "How are we going to handle the bodies that the Salvatores stacked up in New Orleans?"

 Elijah shrugged. "You're the Council. Figure it out."

 With that, Elijah turned on his heel and left the room. The witch gazed at him as he strolled out the door with a mix of wonder and fear-induced anxiety.

 The Council would have to fix the messes these Originals created. Why would they have to do it? Because they had responsibilities to handle and to properly battle the anxieties brought on by arrogant Originals and their petty rivalries. 


End file.
